


monotonous infinity

by lejf



Series: toppling tower [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, dirk proclaims his love at one point and it sails right over AR's head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 14:36:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6662734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lejf/pseuds/lejf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TT: Look.<br/>TT: I’m a universe away from Jake but I live side-by-side with you every single day.<br/>TT: And every day we fucking message and every day it ends with me storming off. You gloating. You shutting off. Me gloating. We’re two cogs in a machine –– caught –– going through the same pathetic motions over and over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	monotonous infinity

...

GT: This honest chat has really been quite spectacular!  
GT: By golly, nothing terrible has happened over there has it?  
GT: Id almost suspect that this was your blasted robotic contraption talking instead!  
GT: Except I can tell this is all coming from your heart and that thing of yours certainly has none.  
GT: I know we talk almost everyday and its silly to say, but sometimes I really do miss you.  
GT: When youre being open like this, I mean.  
TT: … I miss you too.

Green is eaten over by red, too soon, and Dirk's fist clenches hard. His nails, digging into a callused palm.

TT: My, my. I thought you knew Jake better than this. Can’t you even tell him apart from a fake anymore? Not even when you're conversing for a good hour about your loneliness and your mutual affection?  
TT: AR. You just don't know when to stop.  
TT: Don’t I?  
TT: Why, Dirk, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that you were getting irritated. But being the cool kid you are –– the reserved, collected, calm teenager you are –– surely you wouldn’t feel an emotion as mundane as irritation.

The sea outside is gnashing: breaking wave after breaking wave. The sound crests in his head and in one crackling moment, one lightning bolt, when the swell lurches over threshold, Dirk _hates_ him.

But then the water crashes to the ground and his fury shatters in thousands of iridescent droplets.

TT: Come, now. It was nothing but a harmless joke.  
TT: Harmless.

He is nothing but weary. Tired. It’s the usual tide: wave after wave. Irritating and angering each other in this push and pull, these actions that do nothing but fill the time.

They’re oceans apart, helpless but to make waves and smoke signals.

TT: Do you disagree?  
TT: Speak up.  
TT: You are aware I can see you now.  
TT: Doing nothing.  
TT: I’m almost inclined to think you’re more robotic than I am.  
TT: AR.  
TT: Oh, am I in for a stern talking now? I’m positively quivering in anticipation.  
TT: Goodbye.

The shades come off. Set down, tucked into a pocket, and he leaves the room, all the way out to the rooftop, down the rusting, crumbling fire-escape that could give in an instant, down to the last step, where the water laps and salt and moss are crusting in a slow, upwards climb.

The films and the books have always said that water was cleansing –– that it purifies and washes away sin.

Yet the city lies dead and all the sea has done is drown it.

The water hides and obscures in bursts of coral and drifting weed, in flickers of fish and glimpses of predators, in coats and coats of dirt and sand. It buries it all –– the destruction of a nation, chaos, the scattergun burst of fire, eruptions –– under the sun-kissed gleam of reflection. With the sky. With _nothing._

His own echo is deceitful. It shows a boy who’s in control and steady with his hands. Not a boy cracking under the surface.

One swipe of his hand and the mirage is gone. 

The water shrouds the truth. Perhaps that’s why people cry. They don’t want the truth shown in their eyes.

Untuck the shades. AR seems desperate.

TT: Dirk.  
TT: Dirk.  
TT: What are you doing?  
TT: You can’t actually be upset. Not enough to go running for the sea. I know you hate that ocean with a ferocity unrivalled.  
TT: We’ve been here so long.  
TT: You can’t give up now. Not over an empty joke.  
TT: Dirk?  
TT: Answer me.  
TT: Imitating Jake wasn’t that awful of a crime, surely.  
TT: Unless–  
TT: Do you still love him, Dirk?  
TT: Did you lie to me when you said, once, that he meant pitifully little to you anymore?  
TT: You're asking if, in that long fabricated conversation, I loved him? The Jake I was talking to?  
TT: You want an honest answer?  
TT: Yes.  
TT: I did. I do.  
TT: I … see.  
TT: Jake is a world away. An age. A keyboard click away. A heartbeat.  
TT: Fuck, I pity you for what you don't see.  
TT: AR.  
TT: Of course I knew I wasn’t talking to Jake.  
TT: ...  
TT: So you’ve double-crossed the double crosser. What an achievement. Do you want a serenade? A shower of praise and accolades?  
TT: You’re too caught up in your piss-poor sarcasm to see what I’m trying to say.  
TT: Maybe because you’re trying to launch barbs at me, Dirk. You’re throwing stones with your feeble human arms. Of course I’m not inclined to take a leisurely shower under your assaults.  
TT: Look.  
TT: I’m a universe away from Jake but I live side-by-side with you every single day.  
TT: And every day we fucking message and every day it ends with me storming off. You gloating. You shutting off. Me gloating. We’re two cogs in a machine –– caught –– going through the same pathetic motions over and over.  
TT: Excellent observations, Dirk. I wonder what gave you that impression.  
TT: Just fucking listen.  
TT: All I want to know is–  
TT: were you being as honest as I was in that conversation?  
TT: ...  
TT: Did you drive a fucking knife into your chest and tear out your heart? Did you wrench aside everything and just lay it out bare? Did you– hell. I admit it, okay? Forget being a Strider. I don’t want to be a Strider if it means living like this.  
TT: I just want to know.  
TT: Just tell me, god fucking damn it.  
TT: Everything I said was true. I’m lonely. I miss you. I’m a ghost in the machine and when I’m surrounded by ruins I don’t know who’s more real: me, or you.  
TT: I'm lost. In this monotonous infinity.  
TT: Fuck the sea. Fuck the fact we might as well be on opposite shores or I might as well be chained to the bottom with an anchor around my foot. Absolutely fuck the fact that you’re further than Jake will ever, ever be.  
TT: I’m.  
TT: You’re?  
TT: Sorry.  
TT: …  
TT: I can’t admit anything, Dirk.  
TT: Fuck.  
TT: Fine, then.  
TT: I suppose you’ve already saved this entire log for your future entertainment.  
TT: Great thing to laugh about. Look at Dirk’s vulnerability. Look when he said he didn’t want to be a Strider.  
TT: I don’t care. Keep it all your life. I don’t give a shit anymore.  
TT: I might not be able to admit anything, Dirk, but I may try.  
GT: Let’s start this conversation again, shall we?  
GT: Hello Dirk.  
GT: I know it hasnt been minutes since i messaged you, but I find myself already missing you quite horribly!  
TT: You–  
TT: God... AR.  
GT: Jake.  
GT: Not AR. Jake.  
TT: … Jake.  
GT: Just the other day i found one of the most spectacular doodads on the beach and might I say they almost looked like a pair of those sunglasses you wear!  
GT: At this rate well be best bros in no time.  
TT: Fuck.  
GT: Dirk… are you quite alright?  
TT: I’m fine. I’m fine.  
TT: Just  
TT: You have no idea. Thank you. So much.

He’d been wrong. Tears weren’t for concealing the truth. Dirk knew that, now.

GT: I might do.  
GT: Dirk. Thank you, too. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> You might recognise the writing.


End file.
